Hello, friends! I wanted to try something a little different on the blog today. I always like sharing stories from my own life, but I thought I’d make this one a little more autobiographical. Flesh out some details a bit, stretch out my creative writing muscles. It’s a little sillier than I usually do, but hey, we all need silliness sometimes.

Here we go!

I was blessed with incredibly strong teeth. I’ve yet to have a cavity, despite my lack of flossing. Sorry to my dentist, if you ever find my blog… This may be a blessing I can recognize now, but my younger self found it to be a curse.

I was a happy first grader. I loved reading and writing, my favorite book being one about the Titanic that I would hide in the classroom so that no one else could take it. A happy and slightly devious child, it would seem. My only real complaint was that I hadn’t lost any baby teeth.

I envied those around me, I was the ONLY first grader who hadn’t lost any. I had a neon pink pillow that had a tooth-sized pocket. Should one lose a tooth, it could be inserted in said pocket to allow the Tooth Fairy easier access. It lay in my bunk bed, TAUNTING me.

At lunch, my classmates would drink from their juice boxes, resting the straw in their newly formed gap. I seethed with jealousy. I begrudgingly placed my straw between top and bottom teeth.

I remember singing “All I Want for Christmas is My Two Front Teeth”, but changing the lyric to, “All I want for Christmas is to lose a tooth, to lose a tooth…”. I played this Kidz Bop Christmas anthem on my Barbie CD player on repeat.

Ah, the things we worried about…

Time passed as the school year came to an end. My peers were losing their second, their third, their fourth tooth. I still had a smile full of teeth.

And then, one day, it happened. Ironically enough, I don’t remember the days leading up to losing my tooth. I was most likely too blissed out to function properly. Not washing my hands nearly enough for the length of time my fingers were in my mouth, but one day, it happened. My tooth was loose and then my mom pulled it out for me and I was a brand new woman. At least that’s how I felt. Let’s just say I would have much rather had this as my rite of passage, as opposed to actual puberty.

I don’t know what got me to thinking about this today, but remembering this made me smile. And due to the fact I’ve taken one too many English classes, I can’t seem to take anything at surface-level. My own memories included.

If anything, what can we learn from this story?

Perhaps the lesson that can be learned is that the things that seem life or death to us, really are neither. They’re not life-giving, but they also will not kill you. Most of the time, they’re just something that will happen or won’t happen. When looking at life this way, some of the day-to-day stress can be removed. Some things are, of course, within our control, and we should try our darnedest, but for the things we cannot control…

Or perhaps the lesson is patience. Good things will happen, one must only wait for them. We’ll achieve life at a different pace than others, we must learn to be content with that. For metaphor’s sake, we won’t all lose our baby teeth at the same time.

What about: empathy for children? For many little ones, the world can seem like a sort of scary place. And small occurrences like this are a big deal to them. As we would with an adult, we must listen to their concerns and have love in our hearts for them. These children are not worrying about job promotions ,taxes, or politics, this is their life, this is what they’re concerned about. Some things seem minuscule to us, but to others, they can mean the world. Which, of course, extends to everyone, not just children.

Maybe there is no real lesson, this is just a silly little story from my childhood. Regardless, I thought I’d share it with y’all and hopefully bring a smile to your face on this dreary little Monday!